


Ardently

by onebatch2batch



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: And would totally memorize the lines of romance novels, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Frank is a literary Nerd, Love Confessions, Moving Onto The Next Step
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebatch2batch/pseuds/onebatch2batch
Summary: Frank finds he prefers it when Karen read to him. Post-Punisher S1 fluff





	Ardently

**Author's Note:**

> This was a product of a) my love for Mr. Darcy & knowing that Frank is a hopeless romantic b) a P&P gifset right below a Kastle gifset on tumblr and c) my own sappy ass. Hope you like. <3

She reads to him, sometimes. 

It starts one day when they are laying in bed, early in the morning. Frank stirs to the faint sounds of traffic outside the window, and the quiet rustling of turning pages. He takes a brief moment to enjoy the sunlight on his shoulders, and the way Karen’s fingers are trailing up and down his bare back, soft as feathers. After a moment he turns his head to face her and blinks sleepily.

She’s sitting up against the headboard, blankets pooled at her waist. Her eyes are focused on the book in her lap, and her lips are forming the words as she reads. The sunlight streaming through the window is haloing her, and Frank drinks in the sight. She’s got some mascara smudged under her eyes, and her hair is still tousled from sleep, but she’s breathtaking to him.

“What’re you readin’?” he murmurs after some time, hesitant to break her concentration.

Karen blinks and looks over at him. A slow smile stretches across her face. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

_Hey, sleepyhead,_ calls another voice, from another lifetime. It doesn’t frighten him, anymore, to hear Maria in his ear—he welcomes her memory, holds it close to his heart. It’s a reassurance she’ll never truly be gone, as long as he remembers. The thought is comforting. Frank reaches out and brushes his knuckles over Karen’s shoulder with a hum. “Hey, yourself.”

She runs her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp the way he likes. “Gatsby,” she says in answer to his question as he yawns.

“Hmm, I’ve never read it.” He props his head on his hand, returning her smile. “How is it?”

Karen laughs quietly. “It’s one of my favorites. I’m a little surprised—there’s not many classics I’ve read that you haven’t.”

Frank takes her hand and brings it to his lips. “I’ll have to read it next.”

Karen nods slightly, watching him, before her eyes light up. “Or…I could read it to you.” She flips to the front pages and pauses, glancing over at his reaction.

He reaches over and taps the book lightly, smiling widely. “Don’t let me stop you.”

She relaxes and turns her attention to the page, clearing her thoat. Her voice lowers slightly and she begins to read as he settles back to listen.

_“In my younger and more vulnerable years…”_

 

—

 

Frank finds he prefers it when Karen read to him. Sometimes he’ll pick up the book and read to her too, but her voice is much smoother than his own, and her words more sure. He enjoys hearing the pleasant lilt of her voice in his ear, enjoys curling around her in bed and on the couch, as they get lost in stories together.

There are warm autumn days where they sit on a park bench, coffees in hand, as she reads. They’ve gone through some Margaret Atwood, James Baldwin, and several books of poetry. He’s enjoying books that he would have never read on his own, and he’s introduced her to some of his favorites as well.

Sometimes he catches himself watching her, lost in thought. Thinking of how he would usually read to Lisa and Frankie in his rough baritone while Maria looked on, smiling softly. When this happens she doesn’t react except to occasionally reread a sentence or two (for his benefit, of course).

He’s not sure when he realizes that he’s spending more time with her than without her.

He tells himself it’s the books while a small voice in the back of his head whispers otherwise.

 

—

 

They’re sitting on the couch and Karen is reading Pride & Prejudice. He knows it’s one of her favorites by the condition of the book—the dog-eared pages, the underlined sentences, the worn binding. She’s smiling as she reads, and her feet are on his lap. He’s kneading the bottom of her foot absently, listening to her words.

It’s cold outside, but the heat is on and her words are lulling him to sleep. His eyes are just starting to close when he realizes that she’s stopped, and her eyes are glued to the page. Frank frowns and squeezes her ankle lightly.

“Okay?” he asks when she looks over.

Her gaze is a mixture of tenderness, uncertainty, and something that he’s seen more on more on her lately. Something soft but intense; the mood shifts imperceptibly around them. She clears her throat and raises her chin. “I…really like this part.”

Frank glances down at the book and waits for her to continue. She’s not looking at the page when she starts reading the lines from memory. _“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire…_ and love you.”

She stops then and he notices her fingers tighten infinitesimally on the pages. Her voice had shifted on those last few words into something deeper, more meaningful, and they stare at each other in heavy silence. After some time, Frank gently sets her feet on the ground and holds his hand out for the book. Karen passes it to him wordlessly.

“Those are some intimidatin’ words,” he tells her pensively. She swallows and nods, watching him with the hyper-focus she usually reserved while writing a story for the Bulletin. He continues on, coming closer and taking her hand. “But that’s not my favorite line. Mine is when Liz asks him when he first started lovin’ her, yeah?” She grasps his hand tightly, and he sees the emotions flying over her face in quick succession. Frank leans forward to press his forehead to hers in gentle reassurance, continuing on, softly. “He says… _I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I_ had _begun._ ”

Karen lets out a surprised breath and stares at him, eyes wide. It takes her a moment to reply coherently. “What are you saying, Frank?”

“I’m sayin’…Darcy might have been a dickhead in the beginnin’, and maybe a little in the middle there…but he sure knows how to tell a woman he loves her.” Frank chuckles, feels her fingers dance across his cheeks, sees the smile light up her face. “And maybe,” he says, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing her fingertips softly, “I could learn a thing to two, huh?"

“Maybe.” Karen pauses, leaning forward to press her lips to his. When she pulls away she’s flushed. “Or maybe we could put the book away and figure it out on our own."

Frank tangles his fingers in her hair, pulls her back to him, whispers “ _I like that idea_ ” and they do precisely that.


End file.
